And do you now cull out an holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Begone

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague,
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Dec. B. Go, go, good countrymen.

[Exeunt PLEBEians. Go you down that way, towards the capitol, This way will I; disrobe the images,

If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
These growing feathers, pluck'd from Cæsar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,

Who else would soar above the view of men,

And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

[Exeunt severally.

Enter CESAR, ANTONY for the Course, CALPHURNIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, a SOOTHSAYER, TREBONIUS, &c.

Caes. Calphurnia-

Casca. Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks.

Ces. Calphurnia

Calp. Here, my lord.

Cas. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,

When he doth run his course

Ant. Cæsar, my lord.

-Antonius

Caes. Forget not in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia; for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their sterile curse.

Ant. I shall remember.

When Cæsar says,

"Do this," it is perform'd.

Cas. Set on, and leave no ceremony out.

Sooth. Cæsar!

Caes. Ha! who calls?

Casca. Bid every noise be still; peace yet again.

Cas. Who is it in the press, that calls on me?
I hear a tongue shriller than all the music,
Cry," Cæsar!" Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Caes. What man is that?

Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

Cæs. Set him before me, let me see his face.

Cas. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæsar.

Caes. What say'st thou to me, now? speak once again.

Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Cas. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pass.

[Exeunt CESAR and TRAIN. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Bru. Not I.

Cas. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamesome; I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony:

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
I'll leave you,

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late;
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And show of love, as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand,
Over your friend that loves you.

Bru. Cassius,

Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance,
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,

Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself;

Which gives some foil, perhaps, to my behaviour:
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Cassius, be you one;
Nor construe any farther my neglect,

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection from some other thing.
Cas. "Tis just,

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirror as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæsar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd, that noble Brutus had his

eyes.

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself,

For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear;
And since you know you cannot see yourself,
So well as by reflection; I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself,

That of yourself, which yet you know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus :
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love,
To every new protestor; if you know,
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and Shouts.

Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear the people

Chuse Cæsar for their king.

Cas. Ay, do you fear it?

Then must I think you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it, that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death i'th' other,
And I will look on both indifferently:
For let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honour, more than I fear death.
Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story:
I cannot tell what you and other men
Think of this life; but for my single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæsar, so were you;
We both have fed as well; and we can both
Endure the winter's cold, as well as he.
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing with his shores,
Cæsar says to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now,
Leap in with me into this angry flood,

And swim to yonder point?"Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,

And bade him follow: so indeed he did:
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it,
With lusty sinews, throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cry'd," Help me, Cassius, or I sink."
I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder,
The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tiber,
Did I the tired Cæsar: and this man

Is now become a god; and Cassius is

A wretched creature, and must bend his body,
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever, when he was in Spain,

And when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake;
His coward lips did from their colour fly,

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world,
Did lose its lustre; I did hear him groan:

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas! it cry'd-" Give me some drink, Titinius"-
As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me
A man of such a feeble temper, should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

Bru. Another general shout!

[Shout.-Flourish.

I do believe, that these applauses are

For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar. Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world,

Like a Colossus; and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about

To find ourselves dishonourable graves.

Men at sometimes are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus and Cæsar! what should be in that Cæsar ?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name :
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well:
Weigh them, it is as heavy conjure with them,
Brutus will start a spirit, as soon as Cæsar.
Now, in the name of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, since the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?